


Nurse Kent

by ClairesGuiltyPleasure



Series: Valentine's 2021 [9]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Caring Jimmy, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, sick thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClairesGuiltyPleasure/pseuds/ClairesGuiltyPleasure
Summary: Thomas is ill and Jimmy decides to take care of him.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Series: Valentine's 2021 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143710
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Well I love you: Valentines for Thomas Barrow





	Nurse Kent

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 9. "It's very sweet that you made dinner, but I'm not sure this is edible."

Just why did Thomas have to choose to be ill when they were the only ones in the house was beyond him. Couldn’t he wait until the family and the rest of the staff returned? Or at least bloody Daisy from her day off? Thomas was in his room, sleeping. And where was Jimmy instead of enjoying the outdoors? In the bloody kitchen.

“Right. Chicken broth is the best for any illness, my ma used to say,” he was muttering to himself. “She could’ve also bloody said how it was made. Not that I thought I’d ever need to know.” He went to search for a chicken, because that was the only thing, he was sure about. What he was less sure about was whether the meat he found was actually chicken. Now, what else was supposed to go in there? Water, that’s for sure. And salt. Some vegetables maybe?

“Can’t do wrong with vegetables, with it being healthy and things.” When he was happy with the contents of the pot, he attempted to make a fire, which turned out harder than it should be. He was feeling very proud of himself when he managed it. He set the pot on the stove and waited. He didn’t know what for exactly. After a while the water started bubbling, which Jimmy took as a sign that it was finished. Since he didn’t cut the meat before, he attempted to do so now. However, he didn’t like the look of it. It was too red and didn’t look at all like the food that Mrs. Patmore served. He decided not to put it on Thomas’s plate. After all, there was more than enough vegetables.

He took the plate upstairs. Thomas was awake and reading a newspaper.

“I made you something. You should try to eat it,” Jimmy said.

“I didn’t know you can cook,” Thomas said, surprised.

“Well…” Thomas put a spoonful of the soup into his mouth and immediately grimaced.

“It’s very sweet that you made dinner, but I’m not sure this is edible.”

“What do you mean? There are all good things in there.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Vegetables. Um, carrots and white carrots. And potatoes and some other things.”

“I have no doubt about that,” said Thomas. “But I’m also fairly sure it’s not a good combination with sugar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, feel free to taste for yourself but I think you put sugar in there. Instead of salt, perhaps?”

“Oh. That’s possible. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Why did you even do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to be ill.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I just need a bit of rest. And maybe a cup of tea if you’d be so kind.”

“Of course,” Jimmy said and hurried to the kitchen. When he came back to the room with a cup of tea for Thomas, the man was completely under the covers, only his head peeking out.

“Thomas? What’s going on?” Jimmy asked, alarmed.

“Nothing. I’m just a bit cold. That’s all.”

Jimmy handed him the cup and touched his forehead. “I think you might have fever.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious! Shouldn’t I ring for the doctor?”

“No! Please don’t do that. I’m sure I’ll be fine soon. You can read me the newspaper instead.”

And Jimmy did as he was asked. He was reading about politics, which he didn’t particularly enjoy but he knew Thomas liked it. Thomas was unusually quiet, not commenting on various things he read, so Jimmy looked up to check on him. Thomas was shivering, sweat on his brows.

“Are you still cold?”

“Yes. It’s bloody freezing in here. I don’t know how you can be in just your shirtsleeves.”

To Jimmy, the temperature in the room was completely normal. “Do you want more blankets then?”

“Where are you going to get those? You know we aren’t allowed to take them as we please. And Mrs. Hughes would know.”

“I’ll get you mine then,” Jimmy said.

“Jimmy, no.” But Jimmy was already out of the door. He came back with an armful of covers that he dumped unceremoniously on Thomas, before straightening them out and tucking Thomas in. The older man tried to protest, but Jimmy would have none of it. He would never admit it, but he was rather enjoying taking care of Thomas. Usually it was the under-butler who was fussing over him, not the other way around. It was a nice change.

Soon Thomas fell asleep. Jimmy didn’t want to leave the house in case Thomas gets worse but didn’t want to sit around uselessly either. He ended up playing the piano. He hadn’t had much time lately and he could use the practise. He had some sheet music that he hadn’t tried playing yet. After an hour or so, he was able to play the piece decently enough. He was interrupted by a cough and turned around. He saw Thomas standing in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket. What was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to be out of the bed!

“That was rather nice,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jimmy said and then he remembered he was angry with Thomas. “What are you doing here? You should be resting and not walking around the house like that. Bloody hell, you’re still shivering, you idiot!”

“Hey! Show some respect. I might be ill, but I’m still your superior.”

“My apologies, Mr. Barrow. Would you be so kind and remove yourself from the servants’ hall? After all, we wouldn’t want such a great, respectable man to be ill and not able to perform his highly qualified and essential job,” Jimmy said mockingly.

“Certainly,” Thomas said, “but perhaps you might be persuaded to make a respectable man like myself a cup of tea if you want me out of here so much?”

“Of course. Just move yourself back to your bed and the tea shall be on its way,” Jimmy gave a little bow as he raised from the piano. Thomas fortunately went to his room and Jimmy made the tea. He decided that the small cups were rather impractical when a man wanted a lot of tea, so he made a whole jug of it and took it to Thomas’s room.

Jimmy was glad he found Thomas in the bed again. The shivering hadn’t ceased, and his forehead still burned. “Are you still that cold?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t have any other blankets anywhere.”

“It’s fine, I’ll survive.”

“Don’t be so sure. Are you certain you don’t want me to call for Dr Clarkson?”

“Yes, Jimmy. It’s just a bit of cold, nothing too serious. I just need tea, warmth and rest.”

“Well, maybe you should actually sleep instead of waking up every five minutes.”

“I would if I wasn’t so cold,” Thomas retorted.

Jimmy got an idea. It was probably a very, very bad one, but it was the only way he could think of to make Thomas warmer. “Stay here,” he said and went to his room. He changed into his sleep clothes and reassured himself that it’s all fine.

“Make space,” he told Thomas.

“What do you mean? What are you doing?”

“Move to one side,” Jimmy ordered and to his surprise, Thomas complied, still not understanding what was going on. Jimmy slipped into the bed, under the covers. “Turn on your side, face away from me.” When Thomas did so, Jimmy plastered himself to Thomas’s back, his arm snaking around his middle, hand resting on his stomach.

“Jimmy, what is that?”

“We’re sharing body heat. Now sleep.” It was more comfortable than he imagined it ever could be.

“Yes, Nurse Kent,” Thomas said, and Jimmy felt his body relax. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Thomas,” Jimmy whispered and pressed a kiss into Thomas’s hair.


End file.
